


The Hag

by CindyBarnard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Dark Hermione Granger, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 03:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18438596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CindyBarnard/pseuds/CindyBarnard
Summary: She remembers him... As she waits for him to come back to her.Slytherin Cabal's 1k In 1 Week.Prompt: Abandoned / Sticks / Marble





	The Hag

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> All recognisable characters and story belong to JK Rowling.
> 
> Not Beta'd - Mistakes are my own.

 

She remembered it as if it had been yesterday when _he_ had first come to her. Life wasn't perfect in the Reservation. It was where the old resistance members in the post-war, Voldemort controlled world were kept. But it was their home and they were left relatively alone, even if life in the Reservation was very primitive.

 

Hermione was tending her cottage garden with its muggle and magical herbs and plants in the summer sun when the sound of apparition disturbed her. Looking up she saw _him_ approaching only to stop a hair's breadth short of her wards. He smirked at her as he watched her in anticipation. Her wards weren't very extreme so her home was still visible from outside. With a frown she stood up from her knees to walk to the low wooden gate, very surprised to see the wizard there. They didn't really receive visitors from outside the Reservation frequently so it was irregular enough to warrant her reaction.

 

Reaching the gate she waved her wand in the needed motions to let the outside visitor be able to enter her yard.

 

She arched her brow questioningly as she held the gate for him to enter.

 

She knew better than to refuse access to any visiting outsiders. It was part of the Reservation rules. Disregard of any rules would earn them a one-way ticket to Azkaban.

 

The blonde still looked exactly the same as he brushed past her. But she noted that he was taller, broader. More filled out. Hermione shook herself out of the contemplation, the last thing she needed was noticing that he was quite handsome. Hermione glared at the Ferret before marching back to where she was busy gardening. Dropping back to her knees she resumed her task of weeding by hand. Malfoy followed her to stand a few feet away. Hermione pointedly ignored him, not even giving him a chance to speak either initially.

 

“Alright since you aren't planning on at least pretending to be civil. I'm here because I need your help, Granger.” His tone was flat, almost dead. It was that which got her attention more than his words.

 

Head snapping up she frowned in question. “If you came all the way to the Reservation for my help… I'm guessing you need a potion of my personal recipe… One of my discreet creations. The completely untraceable ones.”

 

He gave her a barely perceptible nod but no verbal response. Standing up she wiped her hands on her apron with a certain anticipatory smile. “Who do you want to kill?”

 

* * *

 

 

The potion took three moon cycles to prepare. And Malfoy was there every second evening to bring the required ingredients or to check on progress. He became an expected presence in her cottage in those months.

 

Hermione brewed her potion in quiet at first, but after the first month, they started talking.

 

She found out why exactly he wanted to kill three of the most prominent inner circle members of Voldemort. It seems the Malfoy heir was finalising his five-year-long plan of revenge. Everyone that had been involved with the killing and torture of his parents. It seems all the lesser individuals involved had all died over the years in rather unfortunate accidents…

 

But he was keeping these three for second last as it, would have drawn too much attention earlier.

 

She didn't mind… It was why she started with her darker trade. She only sold these potions to the outsiders for outsiders. The more they killed off each other… The less of _them_ there was to eventually defeat when they had regrouped and rebounded. Although technically she knew the resistance was dead. But she dreamed…. Perhaps she had been isolated too long. Or the dark magic she has been doing and dealing with was starting to affect her mind.

 

Yes, she did seem to like the dark magic and potions all the more. And she became quite good with them… She wished she could be there to see how her poisons did their magic...see the moment that death claims the victims…

 

Thinking of it, Draco had the same dark forbidding allure that her poisons did… She wondered how it would be to reach out… Touch his dark…

 

By month two he had seduced her. It had been quite easy… He was the only male to spend so much time with her and she was naive enough when it came to romance. And it had been quite _some time_ … She was sexually starved and he was handsome. And charming when he chose to be. And dark. Just like her poisons. He was her poison. She liked that thought.

 

He made a lot of promises.

 

She believed them.

 

It was easy to fall in love with him then. Especially when she learned of his final step. Where he killed Voldemort. Oh, her dark prince would kill Voldemort… He was making her dreams come true! He was the resistance. How could he not become her all?

 

* * *

 

 

Yes, she remembers _him_ vividly. His hair as the sun shone through it. His eyes the colour of a rainy sky yet as hard as marble. He did kill Voldemort. That odd fifty years or so ago. He opened up the Reservation and the Wizarding world repaired itself.

 

He never came back to her.

 

But, she waited. He was her dark prince. Her poison and her dream. He would come back to her.

 

Hermione had moved from her cottage to the abandoned Black Manor. It was overgrown with plant life and animals had moved in. She shared the collapsing abode with them in the wild. Isolated. Completely separate from society, soon becoming The Old Hag. But when her skills were needed the hag could be found with discreet enquiries in places like Knockturn Alley.

 

She was brewing a poison for a nameless customer when his presence was felt. He had come…

 

The hag gave a crooked grin as she covered her grey hair with the hood of her worn cloak. Quietly padding to watch from her dark nooks as he moved through the crumbling abandoned manor. His steps light over the black marble. The only sound came when he stepped on dried sticks that cracked beneath his boots.

 

With a maniacal cackle, the Hag showed herself to her long-awaited lover. His eyes widened as he saw what had once been Hermione Granger before him. He had aged well but she had become something else... Just like the rumours said. The Hag responsible for countless deaths and curses. Of innocent and guilty alike. She didn't ask for who or why anymore. As long as they paid her price. And her price wasn't in Galleons.

 

She limped towards him, years of dark magic has taken its toll on her. Her hand extended and her yellowed teeth grinned. “My love...I always knew you'd come.”

 

Draco bit down on his tongue, forcing a sad smile. He had loved Hermione. Loved her fiercely. But he had to abandon her. It was part of the deal he made with person unknown till this day. The price of freedom from Voldemort. And now she was no more. Draco let her rest her hand on his cheek and for a moment closed his eyes to imagine her as she had been. “Yes, love… I came as I promised.”

 

He opened his eyes to meet the dim, yet wild honey eyes that had been Hermione's. With another sad smile, he then stepped closer to her to rest his forehead to hers.

 

With a deep sigh, he buried the hidden dagger that he had to the hilt in her abdomen. With a kiss to her forehead, as he held her collapsing body with his other arm, he assisted her to the ground where her eyes met his in betrayed hurt.

 

“I'm sorry… But you aren't Hermione anymore. I had to stop your poison. I'm sorry…”

 

With a last shuddering breath, the Hag gave a single nod and then her body went limp, still cradled in his arms.


End file.
